


Becoming

by Kaneko



Category: Popslash
Genre: Humor, M/M, Magic, Paparazzi, Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-14
Updated: 2005-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 16:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaneko/pseuds/Kaneko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just a mirror though, and not even one of those cool mirrors that made you look like a huge-headed dwarf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming

**Author's Note:**

> Cesca, this one's yours. Huge thanks to Julad, Merry, giddy, Halimede, torch, and especially, especially Terri, who stayed up until 6am hunting typos.
> 
> Written for Sandy the Younger for DWNOGA 2003.

JC had a lovingly crafted plan for that Monday.

On Sunday, after the concert, his aim was to go out with Joey and get very, very drunk. Then, some time the next morning, he'd take a piss and a shower and an extra strength Tylenol. Then he'd put on his sweats and have a nap. After that, he'd listen to some Hendrix and Brian McKnight and have another nap. And much later, if he felt sufficiently moved, he might get a Snickers bar from the vending machine across the hall.

Obviously it wasn't any kind of complicated plan, but thinking about it had gotten him through a four-hour marathon of magazine interviews and the new choreographer screaming, "No, no, no!" and clapping the _I Want You Back_ beat in his face. All in all, JC was very attached to it.  
Sunday night went perfectly.

JC got drunk - and quite a lot quicker than he'd anticipated. That was Joey's fault. And the bartender's. She'd taken a shine to Joey, and given them both free drinks all night. And not just beers, but martinis and tequilas, and really lethal concoctions with names like 'Dropkick' and 'Mouthpuncher' that JC suspected she'd just made up on the spot.

At the end of it, Joey went home with the bartender, and JC hailed a taxi and went back to the hotel. He woke Chris and Lance by trying to get into their room instead of his, but they didn't seem to mind too much. It was all very satisfying.

It was the next morning when it all went wrong.

~~~

JC woke up to the sight of Chris rooting through his sock drawer.

"What ya doin'?" he mumbled.

Chris turned. "Hey," he said. "Get up, we're going to a carnival."

"Mm," JC said. He closed his eyes and breathed into his pillow.

~~~

He woke up again when something thunked onto the bedspread. It was a sock ball - an oddly colored one. JC blinked and unfolded it. The socks didn't match. He had a feeling this was payback for waking Chris up last night.

"Hey, Chris said. "Get up, we're going to a carnival."

JC blinked some more. He was having a weird deja vu feeling and not in a good way. His head ached, and he could taste fermented bananas in the back of his throat from one of those drinks last night. He thought the bartender had called it 'Bellyflop'. His stomach churned ominously. "Chris," he said. "Did you fuck up my socks?"

Chris smiled at him sweetly and opened the next drawer down. "Get up?" he said. He managed to make it sound like a suggestion rather than a threat.

JC pretty much knew right then how the conversation was going to go, but he wasn't a quitter. Or at least, if he was going to go down, he was going to go down whining.

"Wouldn't it be better for everyone if I just stayed here?" he said. His head throbbed suddenly, and he pressed his hands against it to help it stay nice and balanced on his neck. He hoped he looked as pitiable as he felt. "I'm meaner than normal people when I'm hungover. So like, it just makes more sense," he added hopefully.

"We're only here for three nights, dude," Chris said, not even acknowledging JC's very valid point. "So why did you even unpack? It's not like- Oh my God! German Playboy!" Chris pulled the magazine out of the drawer. "I can't believe you unpacked your _porn_!" he crowed happily.

JC rolled his eyes. He could feel his face heating up.

"Dork," Chris said. He was smiling affectionately though. He tossed JC's Playboy onto the bed, and the pages fluttered indecisively in the air before landing on the scary blue-haired girl with no eyebrows. JC wondered if it were some kind of omen. Like a fortune-telling thing. Maybe he'd lose his eyebrows in a fire if he got out of bed today.

JC's resolve hardened at the thought. "I can't go. I have a plan - a day off plan. And it doesn't even involve going to the bathroom for another-" JC craned his neck to look at his alarm clock "-another fifteen-"

"It's not a day off," Chris interrupted.

"What?"

"It's not a day off. We're going to a carnival for a photoshoot and some interviews. And after that, there's a live TV appearance."

"But-" JC swallowed. "But it's our day off."

Chris's smile flashed sharp and dangerous. "And then there's a sponsor's party tonight."

JC looked down at his mismatched socks. There were three rules of survival on this tour. The first two were unspoken and they went like this: 1. Suck it up. 2. Hug and get over it before you go on stage. The third one, JC and Chris had talked about a little. It went like this: 3. You keep an eye on Lance and I'll keep an eye on Justin.

Of course, there were a bunch of other minor rules too, like don't go leaving your skanky jocks on the bathroom floor, and change the goddamn toilet paper roll if it's empty, Joey. But those weren't really important compared to the big three.

_Suck it up_, JC told himself. He forced himself to smile, and it felt as sharp and wrong on his face as Chris's smile. "Fine," he said.  
Chris's face softened. He patted JC's shoulder gently. "You've got twenty minutes - why don't you go take a shower?"

~~~

When they got to the carnival, the photographer wanted Joey, Lance, and Justin to look like they were having fun on the carousel.

"And you two come with me over here," Marie-the-interviewer said. She pointed at a little booth that said 'Kartenlegerin'.

Inside the booth, there was a lot of purple velvet, and a bored-looking lady with the fakest tattoos JC had ever seen.

"It's a fortune teller," Chris said beside him. He sounded just like he had that morning, when he'd said: 'I think there's mold on that pizza slice, Joey.'

Marie seemed pretty happy though. "What an excellent angle for the interview!" she said, sounding a little bit too self-congratulatory for JC's tastes. But she probably didn't get many thrills in her job, he thought, trying to be generous.

The fortune teller looked them over dubiously: "_Karte, Kristalkugel oder Spiegelglas?_"

"_Sagen sie einfach das sie bekanntschaft sollen machen mit einige Deutsche Madchen, oder so etwas,_" said Marie.

JC frowned. Something about girls? German girls?  
The lady shrugged and looked into her crystal ball - which looked suspiciously like an upturned glass bowl - and told them she saw some pretty German girls in their futures and lots of success in their careers. She warned Chris to stay away from fish and told JC that his lucky number was twelve.

"_Das macht zusammen einhundert Mark, bitte._"

Chris made a noise like he'd choked on a piece of his candy apple. "_How_ much?" he blurted. JC looked at him, concerned. Chris didn't seem to be turning blue or anything, but JC patted his back just in case.

The fortune teller looked put-upon and muttered something to Marie that sounded kind of rude in JC's opinion. Marie didn't look upset or anything though. Actually, she was positively beaming. "The Kartenlegerin is going to give you a complimentary mirror reading," she said. "And I'll be back in a moment." She skipped out.  
The fortune teller pulled one of the black curtains off the wall. She pointed at it with a little flourish, and then she was gone too. JC blinked after her, and then looked back at the wall with an odd feeling of foreboding.

It was just a mirror though, and not even one of those cool mirrors that made you look like a huge-headed dwarf. It was just a plain mirror - a little scratched at the edges. All JC could see was himself, with his terrible hair and his overalls. Which was... kind of deep when he thought about it.

"It's kind of deep if you think about it!" he said excitedly. "It's like- this is who we are. It's philosophical, man!"

"I don't- This is creepy," Chris said quietly. He said it like he was admitting to a huge personal flaw.

JC blinked, and now that Chris had mentioned it, JC suddenly felt pretty creeped out too. There was a strange smell in the room - something heavy. It was making him feel sleepy.

Beside him, Chris jerked like he actually had dozed off for a second, or like he'd lost his footing.

"Hey." JC steadied him. "You okay?"

Chris frowned as though he wasn't sure, but then he shrugged. "I guess you just make me dizzy, Chasez." He grinned at JC and JC couldn't help but laugh back. It was weird how Chris could make him feel better. "C'mon, let's go."

Marie was waiting for them right outside. JC blushed and hoped she hadn't heard what they'd been saying. _N'Sync Hunks Creeped Out By Mirror_, he thought glumly.

~~~

Back with the other guys, they did a quick phone-in interview with a radio station in Bonn.

"Nah," Chris said when it was his turn to speak. "We don't need women to be happy!"

"Hey, I do!" Joey said.

Chris laughed. "Joey says he does," he told the interviewer. "Actually, we all do except me and JC. We're happy without girls."

JC grinned and tuned out while Justin took the phone, and explained that they really, really did love women a lot, but they didn't have time to date.

"-German women are beautiful," Joey was saying when JC tuned back in again.

After that, they had a free hour. JC's hangover lifted like the sun coming out, and there were games and tacky prizes. And practically every stall was selling cheap candy. JC went on the Cobblestone Castle Bounce Ride for the photographer, won a furry blue bear in Feed the Monkey, signed some autographs, and ate about thirty pounds of cotton candy.

By the time the photographer was ready again, he was bouncing from the sugar high.

"He's our Tigger," Chris told the photographer. "He likes to jump a lot."

JC laughed. Chris was such a funny dude. He posed with his arm around Chris's shoulder and beamed at the camera. It was times like this he remembered how lucky he was. He was getting paid to be in Germany. And maybe the hours were super-long sometimes, but he was getting paid! To be in Germany! And he did feel like jumping. He felt like jumping a _lot_.

~~~

He was still kind of hopping cheerfully when they got to the studio for the live TV interview.

The host was called Greta and she had long purple braids with beads that clinked against each other like wind chimes. She smiled at them and winked at Camera One.

"So which one is which?" she said. She pointed at Joey. "You're JC?"

"I'm Joey!" Joey said, laughing. "I'm kind of- I guess I'm the happy one! I like to make everyone happy."

Greta pointed down the line. "I'm Chris - I'm the crazy one!" Chris said. He did his crazy face for the camera.

"And I'm Lance," Lance said. "Uh. I guess I'm more the business one. I always know what's going on with schedules and stuff."

"And do you all have girlfriends?" Greta interrupted.

Justin talked and JC watched him. JC was so proud of Justin - he was growing up to be such a great kid. Such a compassionate, great kid. And JC was constantly amazed by how well he was dealing with the long hours and-

The other guys all laughed suddenly, and JC smiled. And then everyone was looking at him expectantly. "Um," he said.

"JC's actually mute," Chris said, and everyone laughed again. "No, I'm just kidding. He's kind of the serious one. If we have a photoshoot in the morning or something, he'll make sure we get enough sleep the night before. He's real professional."

Chris grinned at him, his tongue peeking out between his teeth, and JC knew he was thinking about JC stumbling into the wrong room the night before. He laughed.

~~~

JC crashed down from his weird sugar high just in time for the sponsor's party. Chris apparently still had some candy hoarded though, because he was even more hyper than usual - jumping onto Joey's back and yelling "Yeehaw," while the sponsors looked on uncomfortably.

JC felt himself flushing in embarrassment. Sometimes Chris was just too much. "Get down," he hissed.

Chris smirked at him. "Hey, I'm tired, man - I've been working all day. I think I'll stay up here."

"Seriously, dude! Just-" JC stopped as a waiter appeared, offering a platter of sandwiches.

"Hand me one, Joe!" Chris called down.

JC laughed and rolled his eyes at the waiter, like Chris was a misbehaving child. When she was gone, he spun back to Chris. "Everyone's looking at us!"

"They're supposed to be!" Chris said happily. "Anyway, Fatone don't mind." He slapped Joey's ass.

Joey laughed genially. "You _are_ pretty heavy, man," he said.

Chris utterly refused to get down. So after the obligatory hour of making nice, JC rounded up the babies and told them they were heading home.

"We have a press conference tomorrow," he told the sponsors apologetically. "We have to be up in the morning."

"We're going!" he snapped at Chris, Lance and Justin in tow.

Joey shook his head as he plonked Chris into the car. His face was shiny with sweat. "This band is off candy!" he said.

~~~

The next morning, JC woke up with a half-formed thought in the back of his head like an itch.

He got up and packed his bags, labeling each one carefully. Then he checked each drawer to make sure he hadn't left anything behind. But still, the thought wouldn't come clear.

He finally got it once they were in the car on their way to that morning's interview. They were jammed next to each other because the car wasn't really built to fit five guys and their publicist. JC didn't mind being pressed up against Chris so much though. It made him feel safer when the fans were smacking their palms against the window.

JC shifted. His arm slid against Chris's, and just like that, the thought solidified. He nudged Chris's shoulder hard enough that he knew Justin would be nudged on the other side, and maybe even Joey too.

"I have an announcement, you guys," he said.

"Hmm?" In the front seat, Lance turned and blinked sleepily.

"I think we should go to bed earlier! And maybe rehearse more! This is an amazing opportunity! So let's make the most of it!"

Everyone was just blinking at him, so JC clapped his hands like he'd seen their trainers do. "Yeah!" he said, trying to pep them up. "Go us!"

"Hmm," Lance said again. He turned back to the window.

"Especially you, Chris," JC said. He was a little disappointed by their reaction. "It's a professionalism thing," he added.

In retrospect, JC realized, it may have been a mistake to taunt Chris like that.

~~~

At the interview on _TigerentenClub_, Chris grabbed the microphone away from the host before he could even introduce them.

"Hi, I'm Chris," he said. "And I'm the cool one! This is Lance - he likes to wear women's underwear. That's Joey - he's real good at basketball. Justin likes gummy bears. AndJCisafraidofbirds," he gabbled as Justin wrenched the microphone from him.

"Chris is just crazy," Justin said, laughing.

Chris cackled and leaned into the microphone. "That's right, y'all!"

Later, everyone was pretty mad at Chris.

"Gummy bears?" Justin asked.

"Women's underwear!" Lance said, his voice going high and shrill like it always did when he was really mad.

"It was unprofessional!" JC pointed out quickly.

"Basketball!" Joey added. Actually, JC thought, Joey didn't sound all that mad.

~~~

JC would have thought nothing more of it, but the next day, he saw Justin with a bag of gummy bears.

"Dude, what are you doing?"

"Watching this German soap opera thing," Justin said. JC watched, puzzled, as he poured a handful of candy onto his palm and shoveled the whole lot into his mouth. "She wuvs 'im-" Justin swallowed thickly. "She loves him, but he's having an affair with her twin. At least, I think that's what's happening. My German sucks ass." He held out the bag. "Gummy bear?"

JC blinked. "Justin," he said. "You hate those things."

"What?" Justin looked at him weirdly.

"Gummy bears! You always say-" JC stopped and frowned. He couldn't remember a single time Justin had said he didn't like them. But it was one of those things he just knew. Like he knew Joey was sensitive about his tiny toes, and like he knew Chris always grabbed a dozen or more napkins from the dispenser when they got take-away. He just _knew_. Or he thought he'd known anyway... "I didn't know you liked them," he said weakly.

"Oh." Justin shrugged. "They're okay."

Later, they all went outside to play ball - all of them except Joey, who sat on the sidelines. "I don't want to overbalance the game with my great talent or anything," he said.

JC played as badly as ever, fumbling his catches, and missing shots, even when they let him retake them.

Then a bird landed on the court.

JC staggered back - a wave of terror washing over him like ice water. "Oh God, oh my God," he whispered. Peripherally, he knew he was gasping for breath, but he couldn't seem to concentrate on anything but the bird.

"What the fuck?" Chris said. And then he was standing right there next to JC with his arm around him.

The bird flew away suddenly, and JC heard a muffled choking noise coming out of his own mouth.

"Don't." Chris wiped his thumb roughly under JC's eyes and it came away wet. JC choked again - from humiliation this time. "What are you-" Chris said. "JC, what?" He sounded completely confused.

"Nothing, nothing, I'm fine. Fuck." JC pulled away and rubbed his eyes.

"Hey. I didn't know you were afraid of birds. I thought Chris made that up," Justin said, jogging up to them.

"He _did_ make it up," JC snapped. But then the bird was back, or maybe it was another bird. With - God - its feet scraping against the asphalt. And it was _looking_ at him with its tiny eyes and JC couldn't breathe...

~~~

Later, curled up in Chris's bed, with Chris's arms around him, and Justin's head on his thigh, JC felt about a thousand times better and a complete and utter fool.

"I know," he said miserably, when Lance explained about the power of suggestion, and how this kid in his fifth grade class had hypnotized her little sister and made her cluck like a chicken.

"Plus, you've been working really hard," Joey said soothingly.

"It's like - remember that time when I said that my favorite food was pizza," Justin said. "And then I remembered it was really spaghetti? Except then I started _noticing_ pizza. Like _appreciating_ it. And so in the end I really _did_ like pizza more."

"And I'm a jerk!" Chris said. "I'm an asshole, man. Seriously." He hugged JC tighter. "Don't worry about it. It's-" He stiffened against JC's back. "What are you eating, J?"

"Gummy bears," Justin said.

"Huh," Chris said. Everything was weirdly quiet for a second, and JC could feel the tension in the room ratcheting up. "Yeah, that's really funny, guys," Chris said finally.

"It's not-" JC thought about the bird again - its spindly little legs, its _feathers_. He shuddered in horror. "It's not a joke, Chris!"

"Oh my God, what if Lance likes women's underwear now!" Justin said.

Chris's arms tightened around JC's chest for a second. "Okay, there's no need to panic, we'll test it!" he said, sounding a bit over-enthusiastic. He shoved JC off the bed - not hard, but JC found himself on his feet before he'd quite realized what was happening.

"Hey, maybe you're a prophet, Chris," JC said, hoping that would cheer Chris up. And he was suddenly charmed by the idea. A real prophet! Had been hugging him! He felt a little cheered up himself.

~~~

They started with Joey, because, as Chris said, if Joey ever got good at basketball, there must be some seriously dark forces at work.

Chris gave him a basketball and made him shoot and miss hoops over and over and over until even Joey's patience gave out.

"Just face it, I suck at this!" Joey said at last.

Lance wasn't as accommodating. "Fuck off," he snarled when Chris presented him with some lacy panties. JC was a tiny bit disappointed.

"Where did you get those panties, dude?" Joey said.

Chris ignored that. "And what else? Okay, I said I was cool, and I obviously am, but I always was. Which makes me the control. So there we go, nothing to worry about!"

So that was that, JC thought.

~~~

**Clip &amp; Keep Guide To 'N SYNC! Teen Beat, March 1997**

We're not kidding. We really like these guys - their sound is awesome and they're pretty much eye candy if you know what we mean. How'd they get their name? If you take the last letter of their nicknames (JustiN, ChriS, JoeY, LansteN, and JC) you get 'N SYNC! Check 'em (and clip 'em) out!  
THE PERFECTIONIST  
NAME: Joshua Scott Chasez  
NICKNAME: J.C.  
BIRTHDATE: August 8th, 1976  
BIRTHPLACE: Washington, D.C.  
EYE COLOR: Blue

HAIR COLOR: Brown  
LIKES: In-line skating, movies  
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "I'm the professional one. I know this is what I want to do for the rest of my life."  
REASON HE'LL MAKE YOU WANT TO SING "ODE TO JOY": Dedication! JC has been "in the biz" for a long time and he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is what he loves to do. There's nothing quite like a man with a plan!

THE PRANKSTER  
NAME: Christopher Alan Kirkpatrick  
NICKNAME: Chris  
BIRTHDATE: October 17, 1971

BIRTHPLACE: Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania  
EYE COLOR: Brown  
HAIR COLOR: Brown  
LIKES: Chocolate ice cream, beaches  
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "I'm the prankster, the crazy one!"  
REASON HE'LL MAKE YOU WANT TO SING "ODE TO JOY": He can boogie down and he loves Mozart! Watch out though, he might put a spider down your shirt!

~~~

The next night at the concert, JC screwed up the name of the city they were in.

"Zoo- Zoo- Zurich!" Chris crowed in the car all the way to the hotel, making JC relive the horrible moment over and over.

When they got to their floor, Chris grabbed Lance's arm and towed him into JC's room. The rest of them trailed after.

For no reason anyone could work out, JC's room had a tiny kitchen instead of a minibar. It was an almost unbelievable luxury, and they'd stocked the freezer with about eight different flavors of ice-cream. Plus, Joey had bought some popcorn kernels. It was going to be a feast.

"And we'll _have_ to eat it all," Justin said excitedly. "Or it'll go to waste!"

Joey found a saucepan for the popcorn, and Chris started spooning the ice-cream into five bowls.

"Hey! Come taste this one, Lance!" he called when he was half done.

Lance squeezed into the kitchen agreeably. He picked up the spoon and then dropped it again hastily. "Fuck! Fucking fucking fuck you, Chris!" he said. He shoved past Chris to put his fingers under the cold-water tap. "Fuck you, asshole."

"What? What happened?" Joey demanded.

Chris was bent double, laughing. JC could see tears streaming from the corners of his eyes. "I- I put the spoon on the stove," Chris gasped.

"_What?_" Joey said.

"That's so fucking not funny," Lance snapped. "Look, it's blistering already, asshole!"

Chris burst out laughing again. "Oh man," he said. "You should've seen your face!" He lowered his voice. "Fucking, fucking asshole!" he mimicked. He bent over again, and his whole body shook with laughter.

JC grabbed Chris's wrist and squeezed it until he knew it had to hurt. He didn't think he'd ever been this mad at anyone in his life. But he was kind of scared too. Chris was nuts sometimes, but he'd never _hurt_ any of them before. "That was so goddamn irresponsible!" he shouted.

"Oh please," Chris said. He didn't seem to be feeling JC's grip at all. "It's not like he's going to go out and play guitar for Zoo- Zoo- Zurich. His _voice_ is his instrument."

"Oh fuck off," JC said. "In fact, all of you. Just get out of my room. Please," he added ungraciously.

"But the ice-cream!" Justin said.

"It's bad for you." JC heard his own sanctimonious tone and clenched his teeth. He felt ridiculous. And furious - at Chris for being an ass, at Justin for looking so crestfallen, at himself for sounding like a dick. He couldn't seem to shut up though. "And you should have an early night! All of you!"

He stomped into the bathroom, and left them all staring, open-mouthed. It was weirdly satisfying.

When he came out, all of the popcorn was gone, but they'd left him a tub of ice-cream. There was a note with it - no words, just a smiley face.

JC screwed the note up grimly, and tipped the ice-cream into the sink; it was unhealthy.

He went to bed early.

~~~

"Chris isn't crazy at all - he's probably the sanest of all of us," Lance said carefully in the next interview. "Plus, JC isn't _that_ serious and professional. He likes to have fun too."

~~~

"Okay, group meeting," Chris said as soon as the after-interview photographs were done.

"I still don't believe it," Joey said. "I mean, you _are_ the crazy one," he said to Chris. "We didn't just make that up!"

"Don't _say_ that!" Lance said. He glanced around like he thought some wicked wish-granting fairy might have overheard. "We don't know what's causing this. And anyway, how do we know Chris was the crazy one already? Maybe we _changed_ him," Lance said.

"Hello, I am not that crazy!" Chris said.

"Well _now_ you're not! Now that we changed you back!" Lance snapped.

"Okay, whoa, whoa, chill, you guys," Justin said. He was still munching on gummy bears, which was really starting to freak JC out. "Nobody's changing anybody. Y'all are losing it!"

~~~

THE CLUB PRESIDENT  
NAME: James Lance Bass

NICKNAME: Scoop, Lansten  
BIRTHDATE: May 4th, 1979  
BIRTHPLACE: Laurel, Mississippi  
EYE COLOR: Green  
HAIR COLOR: Blond  
LIKES: The beach, rock climbing, skydiving  
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "They call me 'Scoop' because I always have the scoop! I'm interested in the business side of things."  
REASON HE'LL MAKE YOU WANT TO SING "ODE TO JOY": Forgot your diary? Don't worry - Lance has you covered!  
THE LADIES MAN  
NAME: Joseph Anthony Fatone, Jr.  
NICKNAME: Joey  
BIRTHDATE: January 28, 1977  
BIRTHPLACE: Brooklyn, New York  
EYE COLOR: Hazel  
HAIR COLOR: Brown  
LIKES: Superman memorabilia  
QUOTE OF THE DAY: "I can make a girl feel like something special in three seconds flat. Guaranteed!"

REASON HE'LL MAKE YOU WANT TO SING "ODE TO JOY": Joey is the genuine article - there's not a fake bone in his body - you could trust this guy with your life.

THE ROMANTIC  
NAME: Justin Randall Timberlake  
BIRTHDATE: January 31, 1981  
BIRTHPLACE: Memphis, Tennessee  
EYE COLOR: Blue  
HAIR COLOR: Blond  
LIKES: Basketball, shopping

QUOTE OF THE DAY: "My ideal date is a picnic on the beach at sunset."  
REASON HE'LL MAKE YOU WANT TO SING "ODE TO JOY": Justin is a romantic. He'll make you dinner and serenade you at the same time!

~~~

"I'm thinking about taking a business course," Lance said to JC over dinner. "Like when we get back to the States. It's just something I'm really interested in."

Across the table, Joey nodded enthusiastically. "That would be so cool, man! And hey, maybe you could get into the management side of it! I could audition chicks for you!" He grinned and winked. "On the casting couch if you get what I mean."

"That kind of talk is really disrespectful to women, you know," Justin said.  
~~~

The next interview was for a kids' show. JC didn't know how he felt about going. On the one hand, he was pretty sure the whole thing was baloney. On the other hand, seeing Big Bird on Sesame Street had ruined his breakfast that very morning. It was all very unsettling.

The host pointed at JC. "You're the serious one?"

"No!" JC said a bit too loudly. "I mean, I can be serious," he said. "But I can also be not serious."

"And you - you like to be romantic?"

"I can be romantic sometimes," Justin conceded. "Occasionally."

"What about you, Lance - you're interested in the business side?"

"Business is just one of my many interests," Lance said.

"I would just like to say, I'm not afraid of birds!" JC announced, looking straight at the camera.

"And we'll take a break," the host said, with a bright, fake smile. She looked like she was wondering if they were high.

~~~

Johnny was on the phone within an hour. "So when did you guys decide you didn't want a career in music?" he asked curiously.

"Look, there's nothing to worry about," Chris said when Johnny had hung up. "It's bullshit. I mean, obviously this is all in our heads. So it'll be fine."

But the next morning, they shuffled into the TV studio, unwilling to look one another in the eye.

"JC, it says here that you're afraid of birds? Is that true?"

"No!" JC glared at Chris. "That was just Chris being silly - I'm definitely not afraid of birds."

"Okay, so tell me about yourselves!"

JC looked down at his feet. Maybe if he sat very, very quietly, he wouldn't have to answer anything else, he thought hopefully. But it seemed like the other guys were hoping for the same thing; the whole room was deathly silent. JC risked a look up. Chris was fidgeting. Lance was staring at the floor - his ears bright red. Justin was glaring at Joey meaningfully.

The interviewer made a little coughing noise.

"Um," Joey said beside him. He shifted, looking uncomfortable. "Uh, I'm Joey. I'm kind of- I guess I'm the happy one," he said reluctantly. "I like to make everyone happy."

"The ladies man!" the interview clarified for the audience. JC jerked his head to look at Joey, horrified.

Joey blinked rapidly, but when the camera swung back to him from the interviewer, he plastered a smile on his face.

The interviewer pointed down the line. "I'm the outgoing one," Chris said sullenly.

"Justin?"

"I'm the romantic one," Justin gritted out. "Lance?"

"Oh. Uh," Lance said. "I guess I'm more the business one. I always know what's going on with schedules and stuff."

"And how would _you_ classify yourself, JC?"

JC licked his lips nervously. The interviewer was staring at him. The guys were staring at him. He felt like the whole world was staring at him. "I guess- I guess-" he hesitated. "I guess I'm the professional one," he said fatalistically. He felt as though he were consigning himself to some kind of doom.

Later, they all sat around a table in a little coffee shop, waiting for someone to break.

JC added sugar to his coffee, and then more sugar, and then more. His fingers twitched. He needed to- No, he didn't. But it would be _nice_ if- It would be _beneficial_ if they-

"Why don't we go rehearse?" he blurted out.

There was dead silence, and then everyone was talking.

"Oh my God, we're being controlled by the media!" Chris said. "We're voodoo dolls! We're zombies! We're zombie _puppets_."

"Look, there's no need to panic yet!"

"-motherfucking _doomed_ to buying flowers and candles and shit. Oh God, I don't even _like_ roses," Justin said. He sounded like he wanted to cry.

"-and it still could all be a coincidence!" Lance said.

"Or maybe I _do_," Justin continued, sounding more horrified by the second. "How would I even know if I really did or not?"

Joey shoved his chair back. It squeaked loudly against the wooden floor, shutting everybody up. "This is stupid," he said. "I'm going out."

Probably to find some girls and make them feel special, JC thought darkly.

~~~

Nothing much happened over the next couple of days, and JC started to hope that it really had all been a coincidence.

But then, as Joey was signing an autograph in Berlin, JC discovered a previously unknown fear of sharp pencils.

"No! No! Please, no!" he remembered saying before everything went black.

"I uh- I may have said you were afraid of them," Chris admitted. "But that was months ago, I swear!"

"Tell me exactly what you said," JC gritted out.

"Um, that you were really, really afraid of needles? So afraid that you were even scared of real pointy pencils?"

That afternoon, JC and Chris had an interview by themselves with a DJ in Berlin.

"Chris doesn't drink. Like ever," JC snapped as soon as he had the microphone. He glared at Chris. Chris glared back.

"JC is completely germ-o-phobic. He wears his underwear once, and then just throws it out," Chris said. "_And_ he has to clean the hotel bathroom himself before he can have a shower."

Later, when Joey offered to buy JC and Chris a round at the pub, Chris spat that he didn't drink. Like ever.

"Hey, are you two fighting?" Joey said, looking from Chris to JC and then back. "Shake hands or something, dudes. I'll buy you both a drink!"

JC refused - the glass looked really dirty.

~~~

They undid the drinking and cleaning compulsions the next day, but it wasn't enough.

More and more, JC began to recognize himself in articles he read and in the things people said about him.

"I _am_ a serious person," he thought to himself. "I _am_ gullible. I _do_ like cheese."

The day they'd arrived in Germany, Lou had made JC cut his hair. Later, JC had stared at the mirror in his tiny hotel room, feeling like he was looking at someone else entirely.

"Hello, I'm Joshua," he had said, watching the mirror say it with him.

"Hi, I'm Josh."

"Hi, I'm JC from MMC!"

"I'm JC from 'N SYNC!"

He didn't feel like that at all now. When he looked in the mirror, he recognized his reflection.

~~~

Their fame had outstripped anything JC had ever imagined. Fans were everywhere they went now - more and more of them, outside radio studios, outside hotels.

"It's them, isn't it," Chris said. They were staring down at the crowd under JC's window. "They believe what they read." He blinked for a moment, and then climbed onto the iron railing. The crowd screamed, and JC's heart caught in his throat.

"Don't believe the hype!" Chris shouted.

JC grabbed his shirt and pulled him back into the hotel. "Are you crazy? You're gonna get yourself killed! And besides, we pay people to deliver that hype."

"Oh yeah," Chris said glumly.

~~~

There were more articles. JC woke up craving hamburgers one morning (_'When we feel homesick, we go to McDonalds,' says teen heartthrob, Timberlake_), and chamomile tea the next (_'It helps our singing voices', 'N SYNC funnyman, Chris Kirkpatrick explains_).

"I never even said that," Chris said. "I bet a tea company made it up."

JC woke up desperate to play basketball, mad at Justin, happy, sad, gasping from a terrifying dream about pencils.

And one morning, he woke up in love with Chris.

He was quite calm about it. He got up and got dressed and went downstairs to the hotel foyer, where he bought every newspaper he could find - even a Chinese one, even the Wall Street Journal.

He found the source in an obscure English-language German newspaper (_Insiders say there's more than just friendship between the two oldest members of your daughter's favorite boyband. "It's love," our source tattles_).

He put the paper down, walked across the hall, and knocked on Chris's door.

"Hey," Chris said. He was wearing just his sweats and a soft grey t-shirt. He scrubbed his hand over his face, and the soft scratching sound of stubble made JC's mouth dry. "JC?" Chris said. And then he stopped and blinked at JC as if he'd never seen him before. "Oh," he said. "Shit." And JC knew the world had shifted again.

Chris licked his lips. JC watched his tongue slide around and in, and he shook.

"You'd better come in," Chris said.

JC had intended to play it cool, maybe make a joke about it: _'Fall in love like this often?'_. But as soon as the door clicked shut, he couldn't breathe. Chris was right there in his space, and JC wanted him. He wanted Chris's tongue in his mouth, Chris's cock in his ass, Chris's hands on his skin. He stood there shaken for a moment, and then Chris was shoving him against the door, and JC opened his mouth for Chris's tongue. And it didn't feel like the first time at all. JC traced Chris's braces with his tongue. He slid his hands over Chris's back, fisted his hair. It felt so real, he thought.

He opened his eyes when Chris lifted his mouth away. "What-" he said, and then "Oh," as Chris moved his hand up to cup JC's throat. "Oh," he breathed. His eyes slid closed again, and he let Chris tilt his chin up.

He could feel Chris's tongue hot under his ear, he could hear himself panting in the back of his throat. "Fuck me, Chris. Please. Please."

"Have you ever. With a guy?" Chris asked. He sounded as breathless as JC felt.

JC's heart hitched in his chest. He shook his head, his eyes still closed. "But it's okay, it'll be okay."

Chris's hand slid from his throat. JC opened his eyes. Chris was smiling at him gently. "Yeah, it will," he said.

Then JC was kneeling on Chris's bed. "I want you," he mumbled. And he couldn't seem to stop saying it. "Want you, Chris. Want you," while Chris kissed his shoulders and slicked him and stretched him and finally fucked him until he was blind with pleasure.

Afterwards, JC turned in Chris's arms to look at him. "Do you think you'll regret this tomorrow?" he said.

Chris kissed him. "I _know_ I won't," he said.

"I never have any regrets," Chris told the crowd that night at the concert. The crowd roared back at him.

~~~

It was bliss. JC knew exactly who he was. He was professional. He was serious. He was in love with Chris. His favorite food was hamburgers. His favorite drink was chamomile tea.

He fucked Chris in the cloakroom at a sponsor's party. Blew him in the Green Room before a concert. Jerked him off in the shower. They couldn't seem to keep their hands off each other.

They stopped keeping such a close eye on the younger guys.

~~~

"Aren't we supposed to be somewhere?" Chris said in the middle of a marathon make-out session.

JC froze with his mouth against Chris's neck. He pulled back in horror. "Oh God, I think we're late for a newspaper interview!"

In the end, they weren't late, but the interviewer was early. So was Justin, and he was talking to her already. JC looked at Chris and they both started to run.

"- and I devote my time, talents, and resources to my mission. I am impactful. What I do makes a difference in the lives of others," Justin was saying when they were close enough to hear him.

"Could we borrow Justin for just one second?" JC said, and the interviewer's expression turned from long-suffering to grateful.

"What the hell was that?" Chris said.

Justin beamed. "_The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People_, man! Affirmation and visualization are a form of programming. My mission is to live with integrity and to make a difference in the lives of others!"

He was excited up until the article came out two days later.

"Read it out, read it out!" he squealed. "Oh my God, I feel more impactful already!"

JC skimmed it. There was a whole section on Lance's ideal romantic date, but everything Justin had said was compressed into one line.

"And Justin enjoys self-help books in his spare time," JC read out loud.

"Mother_fucker_!" Justin said.

~~~

And then one morning, JC woke up, and he didn't want Chris anymore.

"Yeah, me either." Chris shrugged. "But like I said - it's fine. No regrets."

For JC, it didn't feel so simple.

"It's out of control!" he said to Joey a few days later. "It's all out of control. I mean, it's really _out of control_. I don't know what I'll want tomorrow. I don't know who I'll _be_ tomorrow."

Joey swallowed the huge bite he'd taken out of his hamburger. "Why don't you do what Justin's doing?" he suggested.

"What do you mean? What's Justin doing?"

Joey frowned a bit. "I thought you were keeping an eye on him."

"I was!" JC said. "But. Well, except for-" His heart thudded. _Justin_. "Dude, just tell me what he's been doing!"

Joey took another bite of his hamburger, and then put it down to rummage through his backpack. He pulled out a stack of magazine clippings. "Here," he said with his mouth full.

_You may not have heard of them, but NSYNC is about to become the new Backstreet Boys. Already a huge hit in Europe, the hunky quintet's debut album is about to be released in North America. "We're ready for it," says 16-year-old pop-cutie, and youngest member of the group, Justin Timberlake. "We're going to blow everyone away! I think people back home are in for a big surprise." You sound pretty confident, Justin. "I guess I'm just a confident person!" he says with a sparkling smile._

_"...and I've always been into fitness and sports," reveals the 16-year-old songster. "I like to have a healthy body to go with my healthy mind."_

_"I might be the youngest member, but I'm probably the most mature," Justin tells BOP. "I've got a really good head on my shoulders."_

"There's dozens of them," Joey said.

"But I don't. I wouldn't even know what to say," JC said.

"You can say anything you want to. That's the whole point," Joey said.

JC looked at him. "Have you been doing this too?"

Joey shrugged. "Some," he said. "But not really - I still think it's all bullshit." He took another bite of his hamburger. "No offense," he added.

~~~

He really _hadn't_ been keeping an eye on Justin, JC realized, when he walked into Justin's room. The desk was piled high with self help books - everything from _Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus_ to _How to Win Friends and Influence People_.

"Oh hey, man. 'Sup?" Justin said, just as though there were nothing unusual about the creepy _library_ his room had become.

"I um-" JC said. He pushed aside Justin's acoustic guitar so he could sit on the bed. "I guess you must be- Are those roses?" There was a little vase of them resting on _How to Stop Worrying and Start Living_. JC shuddered a little.

"Yeah, I guess I like them after all," Justin said, shrugging. "Go figure."

"Oh man." JC looked down at his feet. He felt so bad. "Oh man. I'm so sorry, J. I've been so wrapped up in myself and the birds and the pencils. And I've just- I've totally let you down. But I promise it'll be better now. We'll start working on how to break the curse, okay?"

"Let me down?" Justin sounded bemused. "Break the- What are you talking about? This is the best thing that's ever happened to me! It's-" He picked up _How to Articulate Exactly What You Want_ and flipped through it quickly. "I am the me I truly am," he read out. "For there is no other me I can be!"

JC shook his head. Justin was so _young_ sometimes. "I'm serious, J. This isn't something you should be messing around with. It's dangerous!"

Justin rolled his eyes like he thought _JC_ was the naive one. "Look. Didn't you ever- Okay, this is stupid, but I used to be kind of jealous of the Justin I read about. It was like - here was this guy who was me, but he was cooler than me! And smarter and funnier. Didn't you ever feel like that?"

JC thought about it. And he really didn't. Usually when he saw himself on TV, he was kind of embarrassed by his own dorky incoherency. Justin was looking at him expectantly though, so JC nodded like he understood.

Justin beamed. "You get it. You get it!" He hopped up off his desk chair and put his hands on JC's shoulders. "It's so much better now! I'm _him_ now! _I'm_ the cool one now!"

JC nodded again, even though he felt really creeped out - like someone, some_thing_ had stepped out of the TV and replaced his kid brother. And like Justin had wanted it to happen.

Justin shook him gently. "Don't look like that, man. I'm still me. I just feel more in control now. It's like it says on page 119 of _From Chaos to Confidence_: 'When we take back the power from authorities outside, that is when we feel truly empowered.' I'm taking back the power, man. Just like you and Chris!"

JC stopped nodding and froze. "Me and Chris?"

"Like how you're together now! We're all real happy for you, man!"

"How did you know that- Look, it was the curse, okay. We were _cursed_."  
"You were cursed to fuck?"

"Yes!" JC snapped. "We were cursed to fuck!"

Justin laughed. "You guys have been hot for each other since you met. You were all-" Justin's voice went high and Chris-like: "JC is just so smart, man. And he's funny - people don't realize how funny he is. And like-" Justin made his voice slow and stupid: "Chris is so cool. He's like the coolest guy I've ever met."

"I do _not_ sound like that."

Justin waved his hand. "Whatever. The important thing is you're both completely in love with each other. You should be _thanking_ the curse if it got you together."

~~~

He hadn't wanted Chris before the curse, JC told himself crossly. And he didn't want him now.

Over breakfast the next morning, he watched Chris spooning milk and Choco Krispies into his mouth. Chris wasn't even that attractive, he thought with mean pleasure. And his hair was weird. And he sang like a girl.

"What?" Chris said after a while. He wiped his mouth self-consciously. His lips were very red, and when he licked them, JC caught his breath.

"Nothing," JC muttered.

Later that day, in a press conference, JC flicked a glance at Chris, and for a second, it was days ago, and he was kneeling in the shower with Chris's cock in his hand and Chris was smiling down at him. "I- I'm the professional one," he stuttered when it was his turn. He could almost feel Chris's hands on his skin. He didn't feel professional at all.

He bought another set of newspapers and magazines as soon as they got back to the hotel that night. He couldn't find the source in any of them. But it must be there, he thought. Something had changed him again.

"Starting a library?" Chris asked when JC came out of the room with the newspapers under his arm. He sounded innocent, but when JC looked at him, his eyes were dark and knowing.

"Is it- Are you-" JC stopped. Did it even matter, he wondered. It wouldn't take much. All he would have to do was go to the interview tomorrow, and say 'Chris and I are in love'. And then everyone would laugh like it was a joke, and he'd have Chris back again. It would be so easy.

"What?" Chris said.

"How will we know if it's real?" JC said, but he stepped closer, helplessly. "How will we _know_?"

Chris closed his eyes as though he were gathering himself. And then he leaned in and his mouth was on JC's, and JC felt like he was breathing again after being underwater for too long. He moaned into Chris's mouth, and started to press closer, but as he moved, the newspapers rustled between them.

JC shuddered and pulled back abruptly. "Last time you didn't have any regrets," he reminded Chris, he reminded himself. "What if tomorrow some magazine says we hate each other?" But even as he said it, he knew he wasn't going to be able to stop himself. Even if the whole cycle happened again. He was lost.

Chris touched his mouth gently, and JC closed his eyes. "I'm the crazy one, remember," Chris said. "The unpredictable one. And you're too professional to let anything come between us. We have room to maneuver."

JC nodded, still with his eyes closed. He felt Chris step closer again, felt him tug at the newspapers. JC let them go and heard them thunk onto the floor. And then Chris took his hand, and took him to bed.

~~~

It didn't feel any more or less real this time, but JC felt different. He felt urgent. It could be the last time, he thought. It all could change again tomorrow.

He couldn't wait - not even for Chris to finish stripping off his pants. Instead, he pushed Chris onto his back with Chris's jeans still halfway down his thighs, and then knelt over him, and started jerking him off roughly.

"Wait," Chris muttered. "JC, you- Oh." He squeezed his eyes shut and panted and his leg muscles twitched under JC's ass. "Oh God."

Chris came much too quickly, and JC licked and sucked his own slick fingers, and kept licking, as Chris tugged him down.

"You want this so bad, don't you," Chris muttered into his ear. "Fuck. You're so fucking hot." He slid a hand down JC's back and JC arched against it helplessly. And then Chris pushed at his ass, and then pushed at it again, and again, and again, until JC whimpered and picked up the rhythm and fucked himself against Chris's leg.

At the end of it, JC nudged his face against the crook of Chris's neck. "Don't let this be the last time," he whispered. "No matter what the press says."

~~~

Justin was right, JC thought. That morning, he'd woken up in Chris's bed, with Chris kissing the back of his neck and running a hand over his thigh.

He couldn't give this up, JC realized. He _wouldn't_ give this up. Justin was right. They needed to take control.

He started by watching a couple of satellite interview tapes. _Because it's like a game tape, and I'm a professional_, he told himself, in case the curse guessed he was going to try to cheat it.

Justin had said he was envious of his own image, but JC didn't feel like that at all. It was actually pretty embarrassing watching himself: he stuttered a lot, and sometimes he was too enthusiastic about weird things like cheese, and other times he just stared vaguely at nothing like some kind of space case.

"I'm comfortable with myself," he said experimentally in the next few interviews. And just like that, he was.

He could _choose_, he realized with a sense of wonder. He could turn himself into anything he wanted to be.

It was hard at first. "I'm a pretty laidback kind of guy," he said at a press conference, and it felt wrong - like he was lying to himself and to everyone else. But when the articles came out the next day, he realized he'd never felt so relaxed in his life.

After a while, it got easier. And then it was fun.

"I like to dress creatively," he told an interviewer in London.

The next morning, he threw away his baggy shorts and his sneakers and his football jerseys, and he bought pastel shirts and soft scarves. In Piccadilly, he found a divine pair of pants with silver thread and a rose print.

"I'm pretty strange, but I'm cool with that," he said. And he was.

~~~

He could only choose up to a point though.

Some mornings, he pulled away from Chris's arms, unable to get his mind off Baby Spice.

"It's okay," Chris said the first few times.

"It's not!" JC said. He scrubbed his hand over his face. "It's- I feel like I'm insane, man."

Another morning, Chris shoved him right off the bed. "I'm sorry," he said - but he sounded more freaked out than sorry. "It's your dick, man. It's not right to have another dude's dick in my bed."

JC fixed that one with a phone call to one of the tackier tabloids. "Hi, I'm an anonymous informant," he said. "Chris Kirkpatrick of NSYNC is totally gay." Chris gave him an apologetic blowjob in the bathroom the next morning.

But it was becoming impossible to keep up with the press.

"Chris isn't a pig," JC said.

"I don't bite my nails to the quick."

"I'm not afraid of pencils."

"I don't hate Justin; he's my brother, man."

"I like all kinds of music."

"I don't hate Justin."

"I don't hate Justin."

"I don't dress that weirdly."

"I really _don't_ dress _that_ weirdly."

"I can't fucking stand this anymore, Chris," JC said finally. He just wanted to go live in a cave. He felt like Frankenstein's monster.

~~~

By the time they met Paul McCartney, JC was exhausted.

It was still the coolest thing that had ever happened to him though - it was Paul McCartney, _Sir_ Paul McCartney. JC was thrilled right up until the moment Sir Paul opened his mouth.

"So Chris says you're cursed," Sir Paul said.

"I- um-" JC said, completely thrown. He'd had a little speech ready about how The Beatles had changed his life, and now he couldn't remember a word of it. And he'd practiced it in front of the mirror and everything. "I'm the professional one," he blurted instead, and winced. He was talking to Paul McCartney. _Sir_ Paul McCartney! And he was babbling about professionalism!

Paul nodded sympathetically. "Mate, I wish I'd been the professional one. Now fucking Michael Jackson owns my songs." He sighed. "Not that I blame him. He was fucked himself - just _look_ at what it's done to him. And don't even get me started on the Backstreet Boys. Poor AJ! That bint in Chemnitz with her fucking mirrors! I was the cute one, George was the quiet one, Ringo was the funny one. And John. John was the angry one." He shook his head sombrely. "It killed him in the end, you know."

"Bint?" JC said, weakly. "Mirrors?"

Paul looked at him almost pityingly. "You know it's the mirror, don't you? From the carnival?"

"Er-" JC said.

"Germany? Chemnitz? Ringing any bells?"

"Oh. Oh! The- oh," JC said. "Right. Yeah."

Paul rolled his eyes. "Tell her Paul sent you," he said. "She'll know who you mean."

"But," JC said to Chris in the car later, "if it was the mirror- I mean, okay. It doesn't seem to be affecting Lance and Joey. But what the fuck is going on with _Justin?_"

~~~

They tested it on the sly to make sure. "Justin likes whippets," Chris confided to a small-time gossip columnist at a party. "In a romantic way, if you know what I mean." He winked.

"Justin eats nothing but turkey," JC said in a solo radio interview. "It's turkey, turkey, turkey, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner."

They waited a couple of weeks just to be sure.

"Why are you guys staring at me?" Justin said through a mouthful of Cheerios.

"Got any opinions on whippets?" Chris said.

Justin frowned at him and shook his head. "You are so weird, man."

"I think we should tell him," Chris said, later.

"We _can't_ tell him!" JC said. Justin was confident in himself all of the time now. "He thinks he's in control. We can't take that away from him, dude."

~~~

They arrived back in Chemnitz in October. It had only been a few months, all told. But it felt like years. The carnival seemed a lot dirtier and smaller than JC remembered. The stalls still sold cotton candy though.

"Oh, you're back," the fortune teller said, when they found her booth.

"Oh, you speak English," JC said sourly. "Paul sent us."

She smirked at them. "Hammers are five hundred Deutsch Marks. But for friends of Paul, three fifty." The smirk turned into a smug smile when Chris snarled at her. They paid her though, and she drew one of the curtains and left.

JC looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't seem that different, he thought. His hair was still bad. His clothes were a little cooler, maybe.

"Geez," Chris said. He looked around. "This place really does give me the creeps." He smiled at JC little. "And you still make me dizzy, man."

JC flushed. "I'm kind of fucking scared," he admitted quietly. "I mean- I don't know who I'll even be after this. Like, even assuming it works. Plus." He drew a breath "Will you still want me? Will I still want you?"

Chris didn't look afraid at all. He reached out and touched JC's hand. "It'll be our choice, I hope," he said.

JC smiled at him finally. It really was weird how Chris could make him feel better.

Then he put his hand over Chris's on the hammer, and together they smashed the mirror.

THE END  
~~~

EPILOGUE

Justin Timberlake (the cool one) released his debut solo album, _Justified_, in 2002. It went triple Platinum in the United States, with sales approaching 4 million.

Joey Fatone (the ladies' man) has a daughter with wife, Kelly Baldwin. He is currently working on a parody album.

Lance Bass (the business one) is hoping to fulfill his lifelong dream of becoming an astronaut.

AJ McLean (the bad boy) recently appeared on the Oprah Winfrey Show to talk about his battle with drugs and alcohol. He has been sober for 12 months.

Sir Paul McCartney (the cute one) has had his fourth child with second wife, Heather Mills.

As for JC and Chris... The rumors are true.

 


End file.
